The Italian

There’s knocking at the door. It grows louder.

Knock, knock, knock.

Huh?

I lift my heavy head from my pillow. What’s that?

The knocking continues. What the hell? Who’s at the fucking door at this ungodly hour. I roll over to retrieve my phone.

8:30 a.m

I wince in disgust.

The knocking is getting harder now—more urgent.

Shit, what if the buildings on fire? I sit up with a start.

“Coming!” I call.

I walk to the door and peek through the tiny hole to see Enrico standing in the hall.

What the heck?

I keep the chain on, open the door, and peer through the crack.

“Good morning, Olivia.” He smiles proudly.

“What…?” I pause and drag my hand through my hair self-consciously. I must look appalling. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for our date.”

“I thought you said ten?” I frown.

“I couldn’t wait.”

I stare at him, looking all perky and like he’s had a million hours sleep, while I look like roadkill. “I’m not ready. I just woke up.”

“That’s fine.” He smirks and bounces on his toes. “I can wait.”

I glance around my messy room. “Give me a moment.”

I slam the door shut in his face and run like a mad woman, stuffing all of my things back into my suitcase. I glance down at myself wearing only panties and a singlet. This won’t do. I throw on a dress, and I run into the bathroom to brush my teeth, while trying my hardest to wipe the mascara from under my eyes.

He couldn’t wait.

A thrill runs through me, and I smile as I brush my teeth with vigor. I rush back out and see a pair of panties that have fallen out of my suitcase. I pick them up and quickly stuff them under my pillow.

Right.

I drop my shoulders as I try to calm myself down before I open the door, acting completely calm.

Rico smiles knowingly. “Hello.”

“Hi.” I smirk. God, he really is delicious. “Please, come in.”

He walks past me and looks around my room.

“You do know it’s 8:34, right?” I mutter dryly.

“I do.” He stands, not knowing where to sit. He’s wearing blue jeans that fit snug to his thighs and a white T-shirt. His dark hair is messed up, and his big red lips are completely kissable. He’s basically sex on legs.

“We only went to bed five hours ago. Why are you looking all perky?” I gesture to his gorgeousness.

He drops his hands to his hips. “Perky? What is that word?”

I scratch my nest-hair. “Eager.”

His eyes dance with mischief. “I am eager. I thought we could have breakfast together.”

I stare at him, unsure if a date with someone who has this much energy this early is really a wise thing. “I have to shower first. Do you want to go and get a coffee or something? I’ll be about twenty minutes.”

“No. I’ll wait.” He drops to sit on my bed.

I stare at him. I need to dig through my suitcase to try and find the perfect outfit, and I have no idea how to do that while he’s sitting there watching me.

“Umm.” I glance over at my suitcase.

“I’ll wait out on the balcony, shall I?”

“Yes,” I say, relieved. “Do that.” I open the door, and he walks out. He sits down at the small table overlooking the street. “Play with your phone or something,” I tell him.

Delight dances in his eyes as he watches me. “Okay.”

I walk back into the room and unzip my suitcase, what I really want to do is do a handstand on my bed or something.

Holy shit, is this really happening?

I rustle through my clothes—all crumpled and messy. Why don’t I have something ironed, for fuck’s sake? What will I wear?

“What are we doing today?” I call.

“Everything!” he calls back.

Everything. I poke my head around the corner. “Define everything.”

He looks up and our eyes meet. My breath catches. I think he’s the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on.

“Swimming,” he eventually says.

I frown. “Swimming?”

“Among other things. I thought we could do some sightseeing on my motorbike, and then go for a drive down to the beach this afternoon.”

My eyes widen. “You have a motorbike?”

“I do. Do you like motorbikes.”

“I love motorbikes.”

“Me, too.”

“This sounds fun,” I beam.

“That’s me.” He throws me a cheeky wink. “Mr. Fun.”

I giggle because we both know that’s an appalling lie, he’s Mr. Intense, not Mr. Fun.

“If you say so,” I tease. I walk back inside and do another little jig to myself. This is the best day of my frigging life.

I grab my things and head into the shower, trying to be as quick as I can because I know he’s waiting.

He’s waiting… for me.

Ten minutes later, I come back out into the room in denim shorts and a pale pink T-shirt to find my bed made and my panties laid out. I stare at them, mortified. They’re the ones I stuffed under my pillow when he arrived.

I turn to him. “You made my bed?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

His eyes hold mine, dark and dangerous. “I wanted to.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I found these under your pillow.” He picks them up and twirls them around on his finger. “Did you take them off last night when you were alone in bed?”

I open my mouth to say something but no words come out.

He steps forward, closer to me. “Did you touch yourself last night when you got back from our date?”

I frown. I have two options here. One, go along with his notion that I’m a sexy ho…or two, shatter his dreams and tell him I’m a slob who left my panties on the floor. “Did you?” I fire back, unable to push a lie past my lips.

He steps forward again. “I did.”

The air crackles between us.

“And?” I whisper.

“I blew three times.” His dark eyes hold mine. “Seems that you’re quite the aphrodisiac, Miss Olivia Reynolds.”

The air leaves my lungs as I imagine him alone in the dark, pleasuring himself.

Dear God.

He runs his fingertips down my cheek, and I stare up at him. His gaze drops to my lips, and my sex clenches.

Kiss me.

Enrico cups my face and grabs a handful of my hair.

Kiss me.

He places his thumb under my bottom lip and opens my mouth slightly as if imagining something. A frown mars his face as he stares at my open mouth.

Kiss me, goddamn it.

He seems to suddenly refocus and then blinks once. “We should get going. Breakfast is waiting.” He steps back from me.

Wait, what? Where’s my kiss?

“Okay, sure.” I grab my purse and supplies, and I turn to him in a fluster. “I’m ready, are you?”

He smirks, knowing full well that I was waiting for him to kiss me. “Oh, I’m ready. Let’s go Olivia.”

“Table for two, please,” Enrico asks the waiter.

“This way, please,” the Italian waiter replies.

We follow him through the restaurant and out of a door that opens up to a courtyard. The ground is made of cobblestones, and colorful flowers light up the area in large pots. Its quaint and cute.

The waiter pulls out my chair. “Thank you.” Rico sits down opposite me.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the waiter asks.

Rico looks over at me. “Would you like an espresso, Olivia?”

I scan the menu quickly. I don’t think my poor hungover stomach can handle a strong coffee this morning. “I’ll have an English breakfast tea, please.”

The waiter smiles and scribbles down my order.

“I’ll have an espresso with an extra shot of coffee,” Rico says.

“Thank you.”

The waiter leaves us alone, and nerves bubble in my stomach again.

Rico pours us both a glass of water. “You look beautiful today.”

I smile. “Liar.” I rearrange the napkin on my lap. “I’m feeling very secondhand.”

He frowns, not understanding what I mean.

“I feel hungover from last night. I feel a little sick,” I clarify.

“Oh.” He smiles. “I see.” He opens the menu and peruses the choices, and I do the same. “What are you having?”

In order to feel better, I need full fat and double of everything. But then in order to get Rico to kiss me, I need to appear less pig-like.

“Maybe fruit?” I lie, testing the water. I’m so not getting fruit but I’ll ease into the conversation with that.

He frowns as he reads. “You should eat something hearty. It will make you feel better.”

“Okay.” Well, that plan worked fabulously. “If you insist.” I look over the choices. “What are you having?”

“Granola and fruit.”

“You know, I make a wonderful granola,” I say proudly. “I roast it myself.” I don’t make much, but I do make that.

“Do you?” He raises his brow. “Well, I hope that one day you will make it for me.”

I shrug casually, as if super-hot guys ask for my granola every day. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He chuckles, and his eyes linger on my face. Nerves dance in my stomach under his gaze. I’ve never spent time with a man who’s this good looking before. Enrico simply oozes sex appeal, and it’s not missionary style sex appeal, either. I’m talking bone-shattering, wet with perspiration, fuck you into oblivion kind of sex. The stuff you see on cable and think about for weeks.

“Can I take your order?” the waiter asks.

Rico gestures to me. Such a gentleman. “I will have the avocado and eggs, please.” I frown because I want something sweet, too.

The waiter looks to Rico. “And you, sir?”

“She’s not finished,” he mutters, unimpressed with the waiter dismissing me.

“Oh, apologies.” The waiter turns back to me. “Will that be all?”

I’m flustered that they’re both watching me. “I was just going to get something sweet, but it doesn’t matter.”

“Get the…” Rico quickly scans the menu. “The Maritozzo.”

I shrug. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“I’ll have the granola with a bowl of fruit on the side.” He folds the menus and gives them back to the waiter, and we watch as he disappears out of sight.

Rico sits back and rubs his pointer over his lips as he watches me. It’s as if he’s assessing me.

“What?” I smile.

“Nothing.” He sips his water. “Just admiring the scenery.”

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment, and I really want to ask him what he was imagining last night when he was pulling his dick. Of course, I won’t.

“Do you come here often?” I ask.

“First time. My apartment is on the other side of town. Old Rome.”

“It’s a beautiful city, isn’t it?”

“I love it here.”

“Do you live alone?”

“I do now. My brother Andrea and I used to live together but we haven’t for five or six years. He lives near the hospital now.”

“You have just the one brother?”

“No, I have another brother, Matteo. He lives in France at the moment. He’s a scientist and is working with a pharmaceutical company doing research.”

“Wow.” I smile. “A doctor, a scientist, and a policeman. Your parents must be proud.”

“I have a sister, too. Francesca. She’s only fifteen.” He smiles wistfully, and I can tell he has a soft spot for her.

“Three big brothers to protect her.” I widen my eyes. “Lucky girl.”

He chuckles as our drinks arrive. “Thank you,” Rico says to the waiter before he turns back to me. “Francesca doesn’t think so. Apparently, we’re the bane of her existence.”

I giggle, imagining being on the wrong side of Enrico. What a nightmare that would be.

“What about you? Where do you live?” he asks.

“I live in Sydney.”

“Who with?”

“Alone.”

His face falls. “You live alone?”

“Yes.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven. How old are you?”

“I’m thirty-two.”

“Old,” I say.

He chuckles and his eyes linger on my face again. “So, you…” He stops himself.

“Go ahead. Ask whatever you wanted to.”

“You have just come out of a relationship?”

I shrug. “Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“I broke up with my childhood sweetheart when I was twenty-four, and then…” I pause, embarrassed. “Then I met my next boyfriend and I was with him for a couple of years. We broke up over a year ago.”

Our breakfast arrives. It looks amazing as the waiter puts it down in front of us. “Grazie.” I smile before we are left alone again.

Rico looks back up at me. “Why did you break up with the last boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t the one.”

“Who broke it off?”

“I did.”

He picks up his coffee and sips it, seemingly mollified.

“Why are you still single, Rico?”

“I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in years.”

“Why not?”

“I guess I wasn’t ready to settle down.” He pauses and then shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Alarm bells start to go off. Player.

Feeling brave, I blurt out, “Do you sleep around?”

He holds his cutlery mid-air, clearly surprised by my question. “Would it matter if I did?”

“Not really, but it would give me an indication as to who you are.”

“Do you think that the number of people you sleep with determines what kind of person you are?”

“Maybe.”

“In that case, how many men have you had sex with?”

“Two.”

He stares at me, and then blinks. Whether that’s in shock, horror, or awe, I can’t work out.

“Two?” he gasps.

I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing. “Does that scare you?”

He picks up his coffee and takes a huge gulp before he finally responds. “Should it?’

“Not at all. I’m just super fussy. I have impossibly high ideals when it comes to men.” I bat my eyelashes to try and be cute.

He smirks as if pleased with my answer.

“You didn’t answer my question, Rico,” I tease as I cut into my toast.

“That’s because I’m choosing to avoid it.”

I giggle. “You just answered it anyway.”

He smiles broadly and gives me a cheeky wink.

The energy between us suddenly becomes playful and light. He’s a player. I’m a good girl. The boundaries are set. No false pretenses.

“So, where are you taking me on the back of your bike today, Mr. Ferrara?”

He gives me the best come fuck me look I’ve ever seen. “Somewhere you’ve never been before.”

The air crackles between us, and I get the feeling my good girl image just became his ultimate challenge. Nervous butterflies dance in my stomach.

He takes a spoonful of granola. “When in Rome, Olivia.”

“Do as the Romans do?”

“Or.” He shrugs casually. “Just do the Romans.”

“Oh, that’s witty.” I giggle.

He chuckles. “You like that?”

“You’re such a romantic.”

“It comes naturally.” He raises his coffee cup to me, and I laugh out loud.

“Lucky me.”

We’ve been to the Ostia Antica ruins, The Coliseum, and around the eclectic streets of Rome. The roar of the engine echoes as Rico’s motorbike pulls to a slow stop at the parking lot of the beach. It’s around 3:00 p.m. in the afternoon and the sun is high in the sky. I cling to his broad back. My legs are tucked around him, and the day has been dreamy.

We’ve laughed, talked, and I have to admit that Enrico Ferrara is one hell of a tour guide. Although, half of the time as he spoke about the attractions, I was just staring at his lips, imagining them on me. Imagining being the key word because, well, he hasn’t fucking touched me all day. Not once.

He hasn’t held my hand, grazed my arm with his, or anything. I’ve clung to his back on this motorbike like the groupie that I am, sure, but other than that… nothing. There has been no kissing at all. Not even a peck.

What the hell is going on?

Last night we kissed all night, he was all over me. Couldn’t get enough, today…. nothing. Maybe he doesn’t like me anymore.

Maybe I blurted out too much information about myself this morning. Damn it, why did I tell him my pathetic number of lovers? He probably thinks I’m a dud.

And he would be right. Who has two fucking lovers? Losers, that’s who.

I am getting sick of being the good girl all the damn time. What I wouldn’t give to be wild and free for once.

Rico pulls the motorbike to a stop, and I slowly climb off the back and step onto the road. He turns to me and takes my helmet off. I hold my breath, and he smiles down at me. Does he know what I’m thinking?

“The bathrooms are over there if you want to get changed.” He gestures to the restroom.

“Okay, thanks.” I make my way to the bathroom and into the cubicle to put on my white string bikini. My hands shake nervously. I try and stretch the fabric over my behind, but this bikini feels so freaking small now that I have to go out there in it. I put my face into my hands. I’m a ball of nervous energy. He has me tied in knots.

I take out my phone and text my best friend Natalie. She’ll probably be at work but this is the first time I’ve had a moment alone to text her about last night… and today. Holy crap, there’s a lot to tell her.

Hi, I’m at the beach in a bikini.

Been on the back of a god’s motorbike all day, sight-seeing.

I’m totally loving Rome xoxoxox

I hit send.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I whisper out loud to myself. I exhale heavily and fake confidence before I walk out to the beach.

Rico is waiting for me, wearing black shorts… only shorts. He’s super tall and has a broad chest with a scattering of black hair covering it. His tanned, olive skin is rippled with muscle. I count his six pack of abs. I stop still on the spot as my breath catches.

Holy fuckballs.

Rico’s eyes drop down my nearly naked body and he bites his bottom lip to hide his smile. “Hello,” he purrs.

“Hi,” I breathe as the air leaves my lungs.

“Nice swimsuit.” He raises a brow.

I adjust the top to try and cover more of my boob. “Thanks. It felt bigger in the store.”

He drops his head, as if stopping himself from saying something he shouldn’t. “Shall we go over here?”

“Uh-huh.”

He gestures for me to walk in front of him, and I die a little. Oh, God, he wants to watch my behind as I walk. It’s going to be jiggling to hell.

“No, after you, I insist,” I say.

He smirks, and we walk side-by-side over to the beach. “Do you want to get a deck chair?”

“I’m happy to lie on the sand.”

He stares at me for a beat. “On your back on the sand it is.”

That statement sounded so sexual that it’s just ridiculous.

We find a spot, and he lays out the two towels before he lies down on one. I sit beside him. He closes his eyes and puts his face up to the sun. “Sol has been good to us.”

I slide down beside him. “Who?”

“Sol, the god of the sun.”

I smile dreamily as I close my eyes. “How do you know so much about your country’s history? You’ve rattled off everything today like a professional tour guide.”

“It interests me.”

“Thank you for today. It’s been amazing. I appreciate you taking the time to show me around.”

“The day is not over yet, bella,” he murmurs with his eyes closed.

I stare at him for a moment. Why hasn’t he touched me?

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, why?”

“You haven’t touched me today,” I whisper.

His eyes come over to me, and he rolls on his side to face me. “Why do you think I’m lying here with my eyes closed?” He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips. “I haven’t touched you today because I know that if I did, I may not be able to stop. My attraction to you, Olivia, is stronger than I am.”

I smile softly.

“I dragged myself from your side last night, and then when I got home…” His eyes darken and drop to my lips. “I jerked off for two hours trying to get my cock to go down. He wanted you so fucking bad.”

My brows rise. “How did that go?” I whisper.

“My hand definitely wasn’t you, and my cock definitely isn’t satisfied.”

“Jesus, Rico,” I whisper. “Don’t mince your words, will you?”

“Why would I?”

I stare at him as the air swirls between us. I want him. I want every hard inch of this gorgeous man. To hell with being a good girl. I’ve never had a one-night stand, and damn it, I deserve one. This can be a hall pass from my annoying conscience. I know I’m never going to see him again, and that’s okay. I want him, and screw this, I’m having him. He can always be that beautiful man I met in Italy—the one from another world.

I grab my sunscreen and hand Rico the bottle. “Can you put sunscreen on me, please?” I ask.

He licks his lips. “You’re playing with fire.”

Our eyes are locked.

“When in Rome, right?” I raise my brow, and then I roll onto my stomach as excitement begins to tear through my system. I’m really doing this. I can almost hear my lady parts all cheering in a mosh pit somewhere from deep inside. After a beat, I hear the sunscreen bottle being squeezed, and I close my eyes. It’s an oil-based sunscreen. My heart is beating so hard. I hear his hands rub together, and then I feel him straddle my behind. The weight of his body on top of mine pushes me into the sand and wakes up a demon inside of me. He’s heavy, broad, and… oh, fuck…

He unfastens my bikini top, and I scrunch my eyes shut against the towel. Shit!

His hands slide up my back in a strong, slow motion, and my sex clenches with appreciation. His fingers drift up and over my shoulders, and then down my sides, skimming the sides of my breasts. Goosebumps scatter across my skin.

I can’t breathe.

He nudges forward and I feel his erection up against my behind. My heart freefalls from my chest. Oh, fuck yeah. God, he feels good.

Calm down, calm down, calm down, I repeat over and over in my head.

I can’t calm the fuck down, though, because a god has his hands on me and I’m about to have an oily orgasm in public.

It’s been way too long.

I close my eyes as his hands explore every inch of my back and legs.

“Roll over, baby.”

Baby! That sounds good.

I hold my bikini top to my breasts and roll onto my back. His eyes are dark and filled with desire. He reapplies sunscreen to his hand and leans on his elbow beside me before he begins to run more oil into my body. I scrunch my eyes shut.

Filled with nerves, I can’t watch his face as he studies me this way for the first time. He rubs his palms over my stomach, down over my hipbones, and my inner thighs.

I have to concentrate hard on not spreading my legs like every instinct is screaming at me to do.

“Olivia,” he whispers. “Creamy, white, perfect skin.” His voice is almost a purr and it does things to my insides. “These curves.” He hisses in approval, and his hand slides under my bikini top as he cups my breast, momentarily losing focus.

“The sun doesn’t reach there.” I smile.

“Ah.” He pulls his hand out. “That’s right, sorry. I got carried away.”

I giggle, and I hear the oil being poured out again.

“Don’t I have enough on?” I ask.

“No, I’ll probably have to do this all day.” His hand falls back to my stomach, moving in circles.

I laugh and feel myself begin to relax.…. oh, I really like him. I know I could go into this weekend being shy and mousy with a stranger—which is what I would normally do—but it always ends the same way with every guy. We meet, go along happily, but when push comes to shove, I block him out and push him away. I’ve had many opportunities over the years to sleep around. I’ve just never felt the need before. This time feels different, and perhaps I could go into this weekend pretending that I already know Rico better than I really do.

I love sex. I love making love. I love everything about the beautiful male body. Damn, I’ve missed it. I may have only been with two men, but they spoilt me sexually. They were the best teachers a girl could have ever asked for. I was sexually compatible with both of them, and it broke my heart that neither of them could hold me mentally. I loved both for different reasons, but I never felt complete, not even when I was safely in their arms. Something has always been missing in my life; an invisible barrier, holding me back from moving forward. I don’t know if it’s my career, lack of travel or experience. Perhaps it’s what my best friend Natalie thinks, and I really do have a hang up I have from my childhood after living through a divorce.

Maybe I’ll never get over my disappointment from my parents’ divorce. I don’t know. It was a case of it’s me, not you with both of them.

They were perfect… just not perfect for me.

I’m brought back to the moment as Rico’s hand skims my hip bone, and he inhales sharply. I can feel his arousal through his hands, he’s on the edge.

Why does it feel so good driving a man wild with need for my body?

The power is like a drug to my system, and screw it, I’m going to make it my mission to make him insane. I may just be another notch on his Italian bedpost, but I’m going to make sure he remembers me. I’m going to get an axe and chop his fucking bedpost down. I arch my back and spread my legs a little.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been touched,” I whisper.

Rico’s eyes darken and his lips slowly part. I know he’s imagining touching me there. “How long?” he breathes.

“Over twelve months.”

He frowns, as if puzzled by the notion. “How the fuck do you go without sex for twelve months, Olivia?”

I love the way he says my name. With his accent, he says it with four syllables.

Ol-liv-i-a.

I arch my back again. “With great difficulty,” I whisper as I stare up at him. I can feel my sex as it throbs. Aching…

“You’re making it very hard for me to behave,” he mutters as his hand slides underneath my bikini top once more. My nipple peaks with excitement, and he rolls it between his fingertips.

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I whisper.

“Maybe I need to take you home.”

“Maybe you do.”

He leans down and his lips take mine. His tongue slowly slides through my mouth with just the right amount of pressure.

Fuck.

I could come. Just from his kiss, I could come.

We kiss again, this time with more urgency, and he leans over so I can feel his erection against my hip.

I want to drive him wild. I want to drive him wild in public.

Game on.

“Let’s go swimming,” I breathe. I stand and pull him to his feet with one hand. The tip of his cock is peeking over the top of his shorts. It’s pink, broad, and holy fucking shit, I’ve never seen anything so perfect. Unable to help it, I smile and kiss him as I tuck him back in. My libido hits fever pitch. She begins to warm up, knowing that a marathon is on its way.

Enrico and I walk down to the water. The beach is nearly empty with only a few people swimming down the other end. We wade in up to our necks. The water is fresh and salty, and Rico takes me into his arms and wraps my legs around his waist. My hands roam up and over his broad shoulders as we float. I can feel every muscle on his cut body. We kiss softly, enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies.

I’m like a feather in his arms.

Our kiss turns desperate as he grinds my sex onto his swollen cock.

I can’t hear, I can’t see. I can only feel him and his magical body beneath my hands.

Unable to help it, I reach down and slide the front of his shorts down. I want to feel him. I want to feel what I’m about to have.

He’s large. My hand hardly fits around him, and I can feel every vein on his engorged length. My insides clench, and I whimper in appreciation.

He falls still, and we stare at each other as I slowly stroke him.

“Don’t come until I say so,” I breathe.

He smiles darkly as if amused by my request. “You trying to top from the bottom, baby.”

I pull him hard, and his eyes close as he almost loses his footing. “From where I’m standing Rico, it’s you that’s trying to top from the bottom.”

He chuckles and pumps my hand hard. His eyes flicker with a level of arousal that I’ve never seen in a man before. “I’ll come when I’m fucking ready,” he growls.

My insides begin to liquefy. Holy fucking fuck. He’s off-the-hook hot.

We get into a rhythm; I pull, he pumps. Our lips are locked, and I don’t know if anyone is watching us or what we look like from land, but I don’t care.

I want this. I want to blow Rico Ferrara’s mind in the Mediterranean Sea.

His eyes are closed, and his hands fall limp on my hips. I know he’s close. He can’t function. His breathing is ragged, and he keeps pumping in an orgasm-induced stupor. I smile against his lips, proud of myself. Who knew I was capable of being this wild and spontaneous? I reach down with my other hand to cups his balls. I bring them up as I tighten my grip on his cock.

He shudders with a moan. I stroke him hard again, and his eyes flicker.

I put my mouth to his ear. “You can come now, Rici,” I whisper. “You have my permission.”

He grabs my hair at the nape and drags my face to his. “This isn’t how it works, Olivia. I’m in control of the orgasms here.”

“But are you?” I laugh. I pump him hard, and he tips his head back as he loses control and jerks forward to come in a rush. I continue to stroke him as I empty him. His breathing is labored now. His eyes are rolling back in his head.

And I am triumphant.

Take that on your bedpost.

His kiss is tender and soft, and he holds his forehead to mine as he comes back to Earth.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Olivia,” he pants.

I kiss him and push back to swim away on my back. I spread my arms out and float beneath the sun. I feel euphoric—on cloud nine.

Enrico stands still, watching me. He seems shocked… or perhaps confused. I can’t read him but it’s a look I haven’t seen before. He swims over to me and scoops me up into his arms to kiss me tenderly. “Let’s go home.” His touch is gentle, tame for the moment.

I smile against his lips as I brush the hair back from his forehead. “No, I want to drink margaritas and lie in the sun. Let’s enjoy each other’s company for a while longer.”

He inhales sharply as he stares at me. “What kind of goddess are you, Olivia Reynolds?”

“The Ferrara Goddess,” I tease.

He laughs out loud. It’s deep and permeating and it echoes through the air. Rico grabs my behind and pulls me closer. “Never a truer word has been spoken.”

The air swirls between us, “You called me Rici.”

“Felt right.”

He smiles darkly, “Yes… yes, it did.”

Five hours later, we arrive at my hotel room.

We sprawled out beneath the sun until it went down. We drank margaritas and had a beautiful seafood dinner. The day is already perfect. Rico has been itching to get me home. It’s eating him that he was the first to come and that I haven’t… yet.

I eventually open the door with his lips pressed to the back of my neck. Like a pair of teenagers, we can’t stop kissing. He’s like this perfect version of the male species—one that I can’t get enough of.

We walk into my room and the atmosphere instantly changes between us.

Carefree laughter falls serious, and our kiss intensifies. Nothing stands between us now. Without hesitation, he reaches down and lifts my sundress over my head. He stands and steps back, his eyes dropping down my body as I stand here in my bikini. He slowly circles me, and his eyes drink in every inch. I close my eyes.

What if he doesn’t like what he sees?

I drop my head and stare at the floor. The intensity of this situation is too much to bear.

“La donna più bella che abbia mai visto.” He pauses for a moment and then as if realizing that I can’t understand him says. “Olivia, look at me.”

I drag my eyes up to meet his.

He cups my face in his hand. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Every inch is pale and perfect.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

With his eyes following his movements, he runs his hand over my collarbone. He unfastens my bikini top and throws it to the side. His hand cups my breast.

He slowly bends, kisses each one, and then takes my nipple in his mouth. My breasts are more than a handful for him. He hisses in appreciation. “Magnificent.”

Magnificent.

My breath quivers as I try to hold it together.

He kisses lower, over my stomach before moving down.

I close my eyes again.

Jesus Christ, I did not think this is how a one-night stand was going to feel. I thought it was all wham bam fucking in the dark.

He leans lower and drops his head to my sex, and there, he inhales deeply. His eyes close, his face filled with pleasure.

“Dolce Madre di Dio, sto per leccarti.” He looks up at me while on his knees. I have no idea what he just said, but by the look in his eye, I know it was filthy. And it sounded fucking good.

He stands to kiss me. It’s deep, long, and hard. Rico walks me backward across the room, and he guides me down onto my side on top of the mattress. My legs are hanging over the side.

I frown in question, and he picks up my foot to kiss it. “Relax, bella.”

My insides melt as I watch him.

There’s no mistaking who’s in charge this time. He may have momentarily lost his head at the beach, but we both know he likes to be in control.

He stands between my legs and slowly removes my bikini bottoms. He smiles darkly as he sees the small patch of fair hair there.

“You weren’t lying to me. You are blonde everywhere.”

He dusts the backs of his fingertips through my short hair. With dark eyes, he pushes one leg to the side, and then puts my other foot onto his shoulder.

Dear God, I’m wide open for him. He’s hardly touched me and I’m about to come.

“Hai mai avuto un grande uomo prima?”

“Speak English so I can understand,” I whisper.

He pauses for a moment as if contemplating translating what he just said to me. “I need to watch your face when I do this.” He runs his hand down the back of my thigh that is on his shoulder, and he circles his fingertips through the lips of my sex. Our eyes are locked, and he slowly slides two thick fingers inside me.

I clench as my back arches off the bed. Rico hisses his approval. He lets out a low guttural moan, slowly takes his fingers out, and then slides them back in.

The sound of my arousal fills the room.

“Oh God,” I whisper. This is ridiculous. I’m completely open and he’s still fully dressed. “Take your clothes off.”

He keeps pumping me with his fingers, completely distracted by his task.

“Rici,” I demand. “Clothes off. Now.”

He takes his shirt off over his head and my breath catches. I know I spent the day staring at him, but I’ve never seen a man like this. Rippled with muscle, his chest is broad with dark hair. There’s olive skin, a six pack of abs, and that distinct V that disappears into his shorts. Still looking at me, he slides his shorts down, and my eyes widen as I swallow a lump of fear.

He chuckles at my reaction.

“I… I…” Holy shit, I have no words for that dick.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispers darkly.

Will I? Will I really, though? Or will they read about me in some kind of travel no-no brochure in years to come. Pasty white Aussie girl gets fucked by Italian stallion and dies on the stake… literally.

Rico begins to work me, first with two fingers, and then with three. I see stars as I lose all my inhibitions. My legs hang limp for him, granting him an all access pass.

I grab the blanket in my hands beneath me, and within a few pumps, I shudder as I begin to feel the oncoming freight train.

Not yet… not yet.

Hold it.

Please hold it.

Fuck you, sex deprivation. I can’t be this uncool and come in four minutes flat.

But I do, and I see stars. I cry out to the sound of his voice whispering things in Italian. After that, it all becomes a blur.

I hear a packet tear open, and I watch him roll on the condom. He lifts my other leg to his chest and slowly feeds himself into me. His eyes are locked on the place that we meet. My mouth hangs open at his claiming, and he smiles down at me.

“Ouch,” I whimper. I begin to thrash beneath him as the pressure become too much. “Rici.”

“Sei nata per cavalcare questo cazzo. Prendilo.” I frown in question. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He leans down and kisses me. “I’m being careful. I’ll let you get used to me first. I won’t hurt you.” I wince. “Olivia.”

I close my eyes as the burn of his possession becomes almost too much.

“Look at me,” he whispers.

I drag my eyes up to his.

“Open up and let me in. I need you.” His voice is hushed and calming.

As if my body only bows to his command, she opens a little, and he pushes forward.

“Kiss me,” I plead, reaching for him.

He falls down over me and stares at me for a moment as he brushes the hair back from my forehead. An unexpected tenderness runs between us, and his lips softly take mine in his as he pushes all the way in.

We stay still, my heart racing at his possession. Our kiss turns frantic. Oh God, I need him, too.

“Sono rovinato,” he whispers.

“What?” I pant.

He smiles against my lips. “I’m ruined, Olivia.”

I lift my pelvis. “I haven’t started ruining you yet, Mr. Ferrara.”

He chuckles and pumps me hard. “Oh, yes, you fucking have.” He lifts me, and pulls out slowly before he pushes back in slowly. The sting of his large cock stretching me wide open is almost unbearable. We go slow for a while, staring at each other in awe. I’ve never had sex like this before. I’ve never been completely owned like this.

He begins to ride me with hard, punishing hits. The bed is hitting the wall, his teeth are on my neck, his hands are holding my legs back… his large cock is deep inside of me, stroking me—stretching me. He’s taking what he needs from my body.

Some men make love but Enrico Ferrara fucks.

He’s strong and hard… so hard.

The sound of my arousal sucking him in is loud. Our skin slapping together echoes around the room.

I’m tight and he’s big, but somehow it works between us. We’re like animals as we fuck. Nothing could stop us from taking what we need from each other.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moans. “No not yet,” he pants. I smile, knowing he’s trying to hold off his orgasm and can’t.

I love that he can’t.

“Fuck me,” I pant against his lips. “Harder.”

He lifts my hips and holds himself deep. He jerks hard as he comes in a rush, his throbbing cock sending shockwaves through my body as I clench around him.

We both cry out and come together.

And then he kisses me. It’s soft, loving, and tender. It causes my heart to freefall from my chest.

He’s got things the wrong way around.

It’s me who’s now ruined.

The sun peeks through the side of the drapes, and I frown as I wake.

I feel the warmth of a large hand on my stomach and look over in surprise.

Rici is on his side, facing me, fast asleep, looking like an Adonis. His dark curls and olive skin are a stark contrast to the white bedlinen.

I move my leg and wince. Oh fuck, I’m sore. Sorer than sore.

He may have been gentle with me the first time, the other three times, not so much.

He fucked me till I was raw.

The man is an animal and a god.

I go to the bathroom, throw a long shirt on, and then I hop back into bed while the room is still darkened. Enrico slowly wakes and then as if acting on instinct, grabs me and pulls my body to his. He kisses me softly with his big bee-stung lips. “Good morning, my Olivia.” His voice is husky.

Now that’s a wake-up hello. “Good morning.”

He holds me tight and runs his lips over my temple. “What a night, hey?”

I smile, embarrassed at how crazy he got me. I turned into an animal. I kiss his chest. “Sex with you is incredible… and different.”

He pulls back to look at me. “Different? How is it different?”

“Well.” I pause as I try to articulate my thoughts. “I’ve only ever had sex with someone I have been in love with before.”

He smirks, amused by my statement. His hand trails up over my shoulder, and he tames my hair down. “This was better different, then?”

“I wouldn’t say better. Just different.”

“I beg to differ. No sex could be better than what we had last night. That was the gold medal of sex.” He bites my neck and scooches down lower in the bed to snuggle into my chest.

I laugh and kiss his forehead. It’s weird how comfortable we are with each other. This isn’t how I imagined a one-night stand to be at all. I thought it would be cold and clinical.

His eyes dance with mischief as he leans his head on my breast. “Explain this in-love sex thing to me.”

I run my fingers through his hair. “Well, there’s a feeling that runs between the two of you.”

“Boredom?” he mutters dryly.

I laugh out loud. “No.”

“Oh, let me guess,” he teases. “So, you love him, and he loves you. You feel like you can’t live without the other, and you call each other ten times a day to talk about boring shit. You only have sex with each other, always missionary style, and everything is planned beforehand. Oh, I can’t even talk about it without falling asleep.” He bites my nipple hard. I flinch as I giggle at his answer.

“No, that’s not it.”

“What, then?”

I brush the hair black back from his forehead. His big brown eyes look up at me as they wait for my answer. “It’s having someone love you and all your faults, even when you forget to love yourself.”

He stares at me and I smile softly. “Well, that’s obviously why I never fell in love before.”

“What is?”

“I don’t have any faults, and nobody could love me better than I already love myself.” He bites my nipple hard, and then drops down to nip my hip bones. I squeal with laughter.

I fight to pull his head up. “You idiot. I could totally make you fall in love with me if I wanted to.”

He laughs against my stomach as he trails his teeth lower. “If you say so.”

“I’m not joking.” I squeal as I try escape his onslaught. He bites my inner thigh and I struggle. He pulls my sex apart with his fingers and we both fall silent as the mood suddenly changes from playful to intense.

“There’s one part of you that I really do love,” he whispers before kissing me there with an open mouth. My sex clenches.

Oh…. he’s just so.

His tongue swipes through my open flesh, and I close my eyes as I run my fingers through his curly hair. He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders. He licks me again and I feel his breath on my most private parts. Goosebumps scatter up my legs.

“I should warn you… if you do that to me you will never be the same. I will ruin you for all other women.”

“Undoubtedly.” He laughs, and I smile up at the ceiling.

He licks me again, this time deeper and with the flat of his thick tongue. My toes curl. My hands cling to his muscular shoulders.

Wow.

I fucking love Rome.

An hour later, I lean up against the tiles in the shower as Rico rubs his soapy hands all over as he washes me. I’m sleepy, sated, and damn if I haven’t just had the best night of my life. He takes care of me and washes my legs, my sex, my behind, and then moves around behind me to wash my back.

I smile dreamily with my eyes closed. “Can you move to Australia and become my slave?”

He moves my hair to one side and kisses my neck tenderly. “Now, there’s an idea.”

His soapy hands roam over my breasts and stomach. He has explored every inch of my body, as if memorizing it. “What are your plans?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“When do you leave?”

“Monday morning. I’m meeting my friend Natalie in Sorrento and we’re travelling through the Amalfi Coast for two weeks. After that, I come back to Rome for a few days before flying home.”

“You know… one night really isn’t enough to get the full Roman experience.”

I smile. “Oh really?”

His lips slide to my neck again. “You should probably come back to my house for the weekend.”

I bite my lip to hide my smile. “And why would I do that?”

“To clean my bathroom.”

I burst out laughing and spin back to him. Suddenly, we fall serious. “You want me to stay with you?” He nods, and I run my fingers through his two-day stubble.

“I should warn you,” I begin.

“I know. If you clean my bathroom I will be ruined for other women.”

I laugh out loud. I wasn’t going to say that at all. “Precisely.”